


All The Little Things That You Do - A Wonder(ful) Years Timestamp

by elrhiarhodan



Series: The Wonder(ful) Years Verse [10]
Category: White Collar
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Domestic, Established Relationship, Fluff, Food, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sick Fic, alternative universe, wonder(ful) years
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-13
Updated: 2015-01-13
Packaged: 2018-03-07 10:57:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3172040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elrhiarhodan/pseuds/elrhiarhodan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set during their undergrad years at Harvard, Peter continues to care for Neal as he suffers from pneumonia.   (Sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/582833">Delicious Soup</a>)</p>
            </blockquote>





	All The Little Things That You Do - A Wonder(ful) Years Timestamp

Peter left Neal sitting and dozing in the old club chair, one of his mom’s afghans wrapped around him. The heat was turned all the way up, but Peter wasn’t taking any chances. He went back to the kitchen to check on the soup.

It actually smelled really good. It smelled like the soup his mother would make whenever he was sick, or it was cold out, or just because she felt like it. It was the smell of home and safety and loving arms.

He took a spoon and then took a taste. No matter how good the soup smelled, it didn’t taste anything like his mom’s. But Peter wasn’t worried. His mom said it took _hours_ for it to become soup, and even still, he might need to add some helper to it. The jar of yellow power that tasted like salt and onions and maybe just a little bit like what the soup was supposed to taste like.

In any event, there was still hours to go before the soup was ready. He turned the burner down to a low simmer and grabbed his text books. No reason he had to sit in the kitchen by himself. He’d keep Neal company in the bedroom.

Neal was still dozing in the chair, curled up under the afghan, with his hands tucked beneath his chin like some cherub at prayer. Except that cherubs didn’t wheeze. Peter pressed a hand against his forehead and was relieved that Neal’s skin was cooler. He bent over to press a soft kiss on Neal’s brow. It was a little embarrassing, really, but he couldn’t help himself.

Neal muttered something – it could have been either “I love you” in Greek or “I got it, now move.” Peter wasn’t sure. The murmured words turned into a cough, and then another; Neal opened his eyes and the hacking started again. “Damn, sorry.”

Peter didn’t wait for Neal to become prostrate from the coughing. He picked him up and carried him, like a bride, over to their bed. He continued to hold him as he sat down and moved his body so he was leaning against the pillows. Neal struggled a little, but Peter wasn’t letting him go.

“Shh, shh, I’ve got you. Just relax.” 

The coughing continued, but eased up slightly as Peter ran a soothing hand up and down Neal’s back. Neal leaned his head against Peter’s shoulder, too weak to maintain even a pretense of independence.

“You shouldn’t be so close. I don’t want you to get sick.” Neal tried to roll away from him.

Peter wasn’t letting Neal go. “We’ve already been through this – germs wouldn’t dare infect me.”

“Yeah, yeah.” And Neal coughed again. “You’re big, bad Peter Burke.”

“That’s right. Scourge of germs and viruses everywhere. Besides, I’ve been doubling up on the vitamin C.”

“I think that’s supposed to be a myth – an old wives’ tale or something?”

“Not according to mom. Vitamin C and orange juice will keep me healthy.”

Neal relaxed against him, and Peter wondered if he’d fallen back into a light doze. He didn’t mind his weight. It felt good, it seemed right. Neal belonged in his arms and no matter what anyone said, there was nothing wrong or wicked or evil about their love for each other.

“Mmm.” Neal rubbed his head against Peter’s shoulder, still awake. “Can’t wait for the soup.”

Peter rested his cheek against Neal’s curls. “It’ll be a while yet. And it might not be any good, you know.”

“That’s okay. Pro’ly can’t taste it anyway. But you made it for me.”

“So that means it’ll be delicious?”

“Hmm, yeah. But was thinking more that it means you love me.”

Peter’s heart rocked a little and he held Neal just a little tighter. “I do. It does.” He wondered if they said the words often enough. Probably not. “I love you, Neal Caffrey.”

Neal wheezed a little and lifted his head to press a sloppy kiss against his cheek. “And I love you, too, Peter Burke. Always.”

__

FIN


End file.
